


Gems and Stripes

by scrawly_times



Series: AU drabbles I'll likely never expand on [4]
Category: Flight Rising, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Flight Rising, I promise, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Thorin gets lost and accidentally wanders into an entirely different fucking country, eventually, everyone will be showing up, to be fair he was living on the edge of it anyways
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 16:33:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13617285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrawly_times/pseuds/scrawly_times
Summary: Thorin, Bilbo, and Company in the Land of Sornieth... and they're all dragonsCute and ships ensue





	Gems and Stripes

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! another AU that I couldn't help but make and am enjoying greatly
> 
> I technically have come up with designs for everyone already but the only real "constant" is everyone's species and general color scheme. The flight rising Scrying Room is GREAT
> 
> If you don't know much about the Flight Rising game or lore it's alright, this au is just me taking out half of FR canon and burning the rest. Hope you enjoy!

“Hello?”

A faint, slightly droning voice interrupted Thorin while he was scouting hunting grounds. That was definitely it. He was scouting, not _hopelessly lost._

Thorin looked around with a wild start, unsure where the voice had come from.

“Yes, hello! Big dragon there, if you would stop and speak with me for a moment..?”

There was the voice again! Thorin’s ears swiveled until he found the source. Down on the ground the absolute _tiniest_ dragon Thorin had ever seen sat on a rock. He wasn’t even really sure it _was_ a dragon, if not for the fact that it spoke Common so clearly.

“What are you?” Thorin said stiffly. “A lizard with wings?”

The tiny dragon’s array of fins flared rather dramatically. It was almost… cute.

“Why the nerve-! I, my good sir, am a fae dragon!” The little dragon’s fins flailed around before pinning back stiffly. “My name is Bilbo and I came from the nearby clan, we’re all fae dragons, and even the largest of fae would hardly be larger than your head.” It’s tiny head tilted and Thorin found himself squinting to try and give the tiny green thing a better look. Its patterns were mostly elaborate striping that were hard to see for its size. “The clan leaders sent me as a diplomat, to speak with you, as you seemed… rather lost.”

“I am not _lost,_ I’m scouting for hunting and foraging grounds for my clan.” Thorin growled.

“And where might that be?” The little dragon said rather plainly.

“The Eastern Mountains of Dragonhome,” Thorin said slowly.

“Oh, yes, well, that explains a lot.” The little dragon didn’t elaborate for a moment before Thorin growled at it. “Ah! Yes, well, sir, you seem to have wandered into the Shire.” Again the fae didn’t explain further.

“And _where_ exactly is the Shire?” Thorin gritted out between bared teeth.

“Why, it’s a fae community in the Everbloom Gardens,” Thorin’s heart sank to the bottom of his chest. “In the Viridian Labyrinth. You’ve somehow “scouted” your way from the Earthshaker’s domain to the Gladekeeper’s.” The fae’s voice grew more monotone the more it spoke.

This was actually because Bilbo was finding the situation _incredibly_ amusing, and was sinking back into the monotone voice of a fae to show his amusement with his fins rather than insult this strange dragon. But Thorin did not know that, of course.

Thorin stood still for a moment before his ears flattened to his head.

“...you’re absolutely certain?” He eventually said, not knowing what else he could say to that.

“Of course I am! I live here, after all.” The fae’s head tilted again, fins flapping. “Though you don’t have to panic too badly, the Shire is right on the edge of the Gladekeeper’s domain, and it’s not called a _Labyrinthe_ for no reason. It’s spelled so that strange dragons can’t quite find their way through it.” Another head tilt. “Though you must have a dreadful sense of direction to fall to it such a short ways into the Gardens.”

Thorin’s head twitched sharply, claws digging into the soil.

“Which way is back to Dragonhome?” He ground out.

“I’d be pleased to lead you to the edge,” The fae said, a somewhat stale note of cheerfulness in its voice. “Especially to ensure you don’t accidentally wander into any nests. Big dragons aren’t always aware how close they get to fae homes.” 

* * *

 

“So, if I might ask, seeing as you were equally unsure of what I was, though that’s a bit odd seeing as fae are very plentiful dragons, I was wondering what sort of dragon are _you?_ We’ve never seen a dragon quite like you before.”

Bilbo fluttered through the air like a somewhat clumsy butterfly, taking advantage of minor perches and branches to sit on while he lead Thorin through the underbrush. This meant that while the little dragon seemed to fly rather easily in the numerous minor breezes he also struggled to keep ahead of Thorin. Speaking while flying erratically just made him hilariously out of breath.

“I’m a pearlcatcher, as most call my species.” Thorin’s head tilted proudly. “My clan are all loyal Earth dragons and we’ve settled a new lair past the Eastern side of the Misty Mountains. That’s why I was out scouting.”

“Yes yes, a new clan needs all the resources it can get.” The little dragon said surprisingly empathetically even though he was still having a hard time breathing. Even though Thorin was impeded by the various bushes, vines, and trees he could still walk at a pace that kept the fae rushing to stay ahead.

Thorin’s ears flicked and he sighed, sitting down briefly to let the fae have a rest.

“You say all fae dragons are as small as yourself,”

“I’m of a fair size for a grown fae, thank you.”

“But I’ve never seen dragons like you before.” Thorin considered that and frowned a bit. “Though I may have heard stories, I didn’t think they were true.”

“Truly? Fae are plentiful dragons, we’re quite nearly everywhere, really. Where did you live before settling in this new clan?”

“My current clan’s lair has been titled Erebor,” Thorin said rather haughtily. “And before Erebor was founded we lived in the Blue Mountains of Cairnstone Rest.” When the little dragon stared at him completely blankly Thorin huffed and rethought that. “The… Northernmost reaches of Dragonhome.”

Bilbo’s fins fluttered. Thorin was getting somewhat aggravated by this tiny dragon. He didn’t seem to have expressions, or any cues Thorin was used to, and he kept continually drifting in and out of a dull monotone voice that grated on his nerves. He had absolutely no idea what Bilbo was thinking at any time.

“Well, if there’s not many insects to be found there, that’s your reason. Fae only eat insects and occasionally berries. We live in great communities as well, so though you might possibly find a few solitary fae around, it’s highly unlikely any great numbers lived where they couldn’t get enough food.”

“Great numbers? Then how come you’re the only fae dragon I have seen?” Thorin craned his neck. “This is your territory, is it not?”

“Oh fae aren’t nearly as territorial as many other dragons,” Bilbo waved off his suspicion. “But yes, this is Shire fae territory. The reason you haven’t seen any fae is you haven’t been looking.” Bilbo’s head craned towards the canopy. “Also, you’re quite different than any other large dragon we’ve seen, so they’re likely all rather intimidated by you and hiding.”

Thorin followed his cue and looked up. He stared at the trees with a confused expression before movement caught his eyes and it clicked.

He’d noted that the trees here _dripped_ beautiful golden sap everywhere. While sap stuck to pearcatcher fur rather painfully and made a mess, it was a huge attractant for insects and could be used for a great many things.

Looking closer, Thorin saw small flicks of movement high in the air among the twisting sap. What he’d taken for the natural falling and interconnecting twists of dried sap now clicked in his mind as a _ginormous_ interconnected sculpture of holes and dens made by tiny dragons scurrying around in the treetops.

He made a rather startled sound, eyes picking out the roosts much easier now that he’d recognized them. He then saw bits and pieces of the colony’s occupants here and there. A wing, what could be a tail or a bit of string he wasn’t sure, shining dots that might be eyes, moving flicks that were too far away and small to see properly.

It was a rather aweing and embarrassing experience to realize he’d been walking right under and around a clan’s _lair_ for however long he’d been lost. Looking closer around him he could see similar golden sap dens crafted _all around_ in tree trunks and old logs and even little hills of grass and bushes.

“How many fae dragons _are_ there, in the Shire?” Thorin said, feeling rather lightheaded as he tried to tally up the numbers.

“Oh we’re a bit more widespread than the dens suggest, though I’m not sure of the exact number.” Bilbo paused and then his fins flicked. “Perhaps several thousand..? It’s difficult to say, Shire boundaries aren’t well defined.”

Thorin’s jaw dropped open a little bit before he shut it with a snap.

Bilbo seemed content to not tease him over it.


End file.
